


The Man of Stars

by metus_noctis



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: 1970s Era Roger Taylor (Queen), Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternative Universe - Kingdom, Cute, Established Relationship, Eventual Brian May/Roger Taylor, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Kings & Queens, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Violence, Princes & Princesses, Roger Taylor (Queen) Needs a Hug, Sad Roger Taylor (Queen), Stars
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-05-30 17:39:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19408135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metus_noctis/pseuds/metus_noctis
Summary: A lonely Prince, with silky blonde hair, bright azure eyes and long lashes, whose wish upon a shooting star comes true one faithful night.





	1. The Prince

**Author's Note:**

> Hello :)  
> This is the introductory chapter for my new fic. Updates every Sunday ^^

_Once upon a time_ , the storytellers would start, _there was a beautiful Princess who lived locked inside a huge castle, caged away from the rest of the world_. They would say, _Her hair was made of silk, her eyes as blue as the ocean, and her only friends the stars on the dark sky_. They'd say, _that she was so lonely, that her unkissed lips glistened with pureness, and her body divine, never touched by mere hands._

Roger was no Princess, but a Prince, yet his long, blond hair was soft to the touch and his bright azure eyes sparkled in the moonlight. His only company the moon and stars, the bright white dots scattered across the hues of blue and black and grey of the sky's canvas. His only lover, the sweet breeze hugging his body and dancing through his silky strands of hair.

He had a couple of ' _friends_ ', if one would call it that, and they were the Princes of the neighboring castles, Prince Mercury and Prince Deacon, both of whom had already found their other halves and lived free, happy lives together. Roger was only allowed to see them whenever their families would organise business meetings and let their sons come along for a cup of tea. After that, he would immediately be told to return to his room and would be all alone once again. 

Roger was envious of them. He was envious of them all. All the Princes and Princesses in the tales he used to be read as a child. He was envious of their freedom and their right to friendship, to love, to _life_. He wanted that. He wanted what they had, but he could only resort to the sky on cold and starry nights to keep him company. Once the sapphire on the canvas turned into deep indigo, that was his cue to go. He'd run to his balcony and sit on the edge of it, feet lazily hanging down, head raised up high, observing. Space appeared so fascinating to him - - at least as much of it as he had heard - - and he wished to explore it one day. 

He knew that his father used to keep astrophysics and astrology books in his huge library, and considered sneaking in and burrowing a couple. 

With swift and soundless steps, he went down the stairs and into the library, candle in hand, careful not to make a sound or anything that would hint to his sneaking out. He searched every self until he found the books he so-desired, quickly grabbing them and running back to his room with a giggle. 

He immediately went out to the balcony, sat on the usual spot and opened one. He studied the stars, the biggest, the smallest, the brightest, the weakest, the closer ones, the distant ones. It felt awesome to finally learn about what he'd been experiencing all this time.

Tearing his eyes from this profound source of knowledge, he looked up at the night sky and noticed a star, one of the distant ones, he'd note, rapidly travelling down the layers of the sky, with a purpose to reach the earth. A shy smile found his pink lips then, arguably a rare sight, and he tightly shut his eyes as he made a wish.

A wish, for company. For friendship. For _love_.

As soon as he opened his eyes, the star had just crashed somewhere on earth. Roger hoped it had crashed where his other half lived, and closed the book on his lap. He gathered the rest and headed inside, and with the clock striking twelve, he fell asleep.

Just then, a shy spark of light emitted from the sky, pointing to the sleeping beauty's balcony. 


	2. The Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Prince meets him, The Man, a friend, and for some reason, he interests him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roger's morning routine is longer than my daily hours of sleep but Maylor ensues so it's worth it am i right :D

The next day, Roger was awoken by bright rays of sunshine sipping through his window. His eyes squinted at the blinding source of light, not yet adjusted to the morning sun, and after a good twenty minutes spent lazing around in bed and nuzzling the sheets, he pulled himself out of bed with a pout.

He went straight to the bathroom to use the toilet and fix himself up. He always did this, he quite enjoyed it actually, spending his time looking after himself. With all this spare time he had in his hands, making himself look presentable was more than possible. He stripped himself of his clothes and entered the bath, warm water softly embracing his body, massaging it in the best of ways. He washed his hair, gently tugging at the strands, and rubbed his body with his favorite vanilla-scented shampoo. Baths were one of his favorite activities, he always felt happy after a good lengthy bath, and also loved the scent and feel of his skin, all pretty for no one to feel.

Feeling his muscles relaxed and his eyes heavy, he reluctantly stood up and dried himself of the scented oils and water. He sat himself on his bed, smooth skin colliding with the silky sheets, as he delicately handled his wet hair with the golden brush. Sunlight sipped through the curtains, emitting a light, pastel glow on his exposed pale skin, warming him up. His hair looked like a golden mine illuminated by the rays of light, and his eyes two beautiful pearls decorating his face.

It was nice like this, this time of the day. It was early in the morning, and no one bothered him. It was calm and peaceful, and Roger wished he could run to the shiny waves of the sea right next to the castle and dance around the calm morning breeze, feet buried deep in the cold sand. 'So much for a castle', he thought. 'This is no castle, but a prison', and a sad smile appeared on his chapped lips as he looked at the birds that flew around freely, occasionally dropping to the ground's level to wet their feet in the water. He envied them. A tear rolled off his left eye as he hopelessly reached for the outside world, arm extended towards the sea, towards _freedom_. But nothing came.

He walked back inside and put some fresh clothes on, the fabric cold against his still warm body. He sat on the bed, hastily searching for something on the bedside table. He had developed a habit of writing texts and poems whenever he'd feel trapped and alone, and kept them all, along with white papers and a quil, right next to his bed. Sometimes, he'd even write letters to his future lover, saying how late they were and stating all the things he's ever dreamed of doing with them. He pulled out a paper and wet his quil in the black ink as he started writing about his dreams and aspirations, all his fantasies to leave this damn castle and live a happy life with his lover on a seaside resort. Although he knew that would never happen, he found momentary happiness in the inky scribbles on his lap.

Soon enough, he heard his mother make her way downstairs, probably heading towards the dining room. He figured he should also get some food in his empty stomach before having to start yet another lonely day, so he put the papers away and walked downstairs as well. Sure enough, there was already an enormous buffet of all sorts of breakfast food, the pancakes immediately catching his eye. His mother was already eating her breakfast, hair tied in a bun with a silk robe hugging her waist. She looked beautiful, and young, and Roger admired her despite her not letting him go outside. She had said there was a reason, and he believed her, trusted her, even though he was deeply saddened. He sat down next to her, placing a hand on her back and whispering a sweet 'Morning, Ma', digging into his food soon after.

"Good morning, honey", she replied, a small smile on her lips.  
"How did you sleep?", she asked, but whether that was out of concern, interest, or mere desire to make small talk, Roger wasn't sure.

"Fine, Ma, thanks for asking", he awkwardly smiled, and she only nodded.

His relationship with his mother surely wasn't the best, but it was much better than his with his father. His father was a complete different case, the exception to the rule, the only person Roger was reluctant to talk to. Naturally, he was all up for company, contact, and socialisation, but when it came to his father, he would much rather be locked inside his room the entire time. He wasn't sure why, but he felt like he didn't know him at all, and _feared_ to.

Roger made sure to finish his breakfast quickly, before his father came downstairs, but the moment he stood up to leave, he noticed his father entering the room, messy, grey hair sticking out of his scull, a what-seemed like an angry scowl for an expression. Roger visibly tensed.

" _F-father_ ", he gulped, "Good morning"

His father looked unfazed, but nodded nonetheless. As he sat down, Roger stormed off to his room, releasing a breath he didn't even notice he was holding once the door slummed shut.

The rest of the day went by quickly, Roger thought, thankful that it was finally time for his daily star-gazing session. He got out of bed and ran outside, his father's books tucked under his arm. He sat on the edge of the balcony, the wind gently hitting his bare legs oh-so-familiar, putting a small smile atop of his rosy lips.

Looking up at the sky, he noticed a particular pattern of stars right above the sea. It consisted of five bright flashes, their light almost blinding, outshining all of the other white sparkly dots on the sky. Roger knew it looked familiar.

He searched one of his father's books, eyes wide and eager, flipping the pages until he found what he was looking for; _Constellations_. This chapter always seemed particularly interesting to Roger, and he swiftly passed his eyes through the different pages, fingers softly brushing over the delicate paper, until he came across the so-desired page. His smile widened, turning into a toothy grin, blue sparkly eyes darting up at the sky again.

" _Car-!_ " his voice caught in his throat, and he was left breathless, eyes wide, and mouth hanging open. There, up at the sky, was a man, about his age, with dark, curly hair covering his head, features sharp and strong, body slim, and floating around effortlessly.

" _-cinus_ ", Roger breathed, not quite believing his eyes. He was either going crazy, or dreaming. He tightly shut his lids, long lashes crashing together, and he shook his head a couple of times. Much to his surprise, when he reopened his eyes, the man was still there, in all his glory, flying above him.

" _Carcinus_ ", he repeated, mind fuzzy with thoughts, with his hand still trying to pinch himself awake, but despite his efforts, it wasn't working.

"Who- what are you?", he expressed with disbelief.

 _The Man_ chuckled, making Roger jump slightly.

"Carcinus", he replied, smile evident in his tone. "You just said so yourself"

With all of that going on, Roger wasn't really sure he did.

" _I did?_ " he asked, eyes darting to the side, looking around, still wide and unbelieving of the situation. "I did." he confirmed after a while.

"Nice to meet you?", _the Man_ asked, hand extended towards a still very petrified Roger.

The Prince blinked, _once_ , _twice_ , _thrice_ , before hesitantly raising his arm to grip the other's, only to see his hand move straight through him. With a gasp, Roger flinched backwards, almost losing his balance. _The Man_ looked fairly amused.

"Oops, sorry. Forgot about that", he said, a sheepish smile on his lips. Roger furrowed his brows, accusingly pointing a finger towards the floating man.

" _You're not real_ ", he said, more to himself than anyone.

" _What?_ ", the Man asked, startled.

" _You_ ," Roger repeated, voice firmer, " _are not real_."

The Man chuckled once again, clearly amused by the beautiful Prince, arms now crossed in front of his chest.  
“Of course I am”, he reassured.

“No, you're not”

“I am”

“You're not!”

“Yes, I am.”

“ _Prove it_ ”

 _The Man_ looked at Roger with the same challenging look the blond expressed. It didn't last long, however, since soon after he fell into a pit of giggles. “Well, you're talking to me right now, aren't you?”

Though he made a fair point, Roger was still not one bit convinced at _the Man's_ reasoning.

“I could be dreaming”

“ _But you're not_ ”

His expression suddenly changed, turning from utter disbelief to slight curiosity. He let himself relax a bit, fixing his posture as he sat a little further on the edge.

“ _Who are you?_ ”, he cautiously asked. He was still not entirely sold, but he thought, what was he to lose? Dreaming or not, the most harm the flying _poodle_ could do him was probably ghost-tickle him till he cried of laughter. He decided, he could do with some laughter, after all.

“I thought we were over this?”, the Man asked with a sigh, hands now on his hips.

“ _No_ \-- I didn't mean _that_ ”, Roger explained. He examined _the Man's_ features, gesturing him to continue. “I was talking about your actual existence. Your _very being_. You're obviously not human, so, _what_ are you? How do you have a form, and how do you sustain it? What's your _real_ identity?”, he pondered, sounding fully passionate and interested in the other man. It honestly startled him.

“ _Wow_ , uhm, that's _a lot_ ”, he smiled. “I'm glad you finally believe me”, he said, and Roger rolled his eyes.

“Don't get your hopes up, _mister_. I still want those questions answered”, he spat, the other man chuckling at the use of the word ' _mister_ '.

“I have a name, you know”, he paused, “And its not Carcinus”, stopping, he searched for any hints of disbelief in the Prince's face, but finding none whatsoever. He must really want to know. “My name is _Brian_. To answer the rest of your questions, _yes_ , I am no human. I am a _constellation_. The constellation of _Cancer_ , or Carcinus, to be exact. But you already knew that, didn't you?” he asked, mostly rhetorically, voice gentle, as if not to scare the beautiful Prince away.

Roger only nodded, gaze focused on the man floating above him, soaking up all the bits of information he was giving him. The Man, _Brian_ , saw this as a cue to continue.

“I am afraid I can't answer the other two, however”, he slightly frowned. “For I don't know the answers myself.”

To say he was taken aback would be an understatement. It seemed awfully weird how one would not even be aware of the reason behind their existence, or the purpose of their life. But, thinking back to it, he didn't know either. He, too, did not know how, or why, he even existed, and it fascinated him almost as much as it scared him to realise it.

Seeing his perplexed expression, Brian spoke once more. “But I do know one thing. I exist for a _reason_ , just like you do. And mine, is to keep you company, Prince...”, he trailed off, gesturing for the younger man to complete his sentence.

“ _Roger_ ”, he hesitated, voice small, shy.  
Brian smiled.

“ _Prince Roger_ ”, he repeated, and God knows how pretty and promising it sounded coming from his mouth. It made the young Prince's stomach bloom with flowers. He too, smiled.

“ _Brian_ ”, he murmured.  
“ _The Man of Stars_.”

-

When he woke up the next day, he was ambushed by a terrible headache. His head felt like he was being crashed between two meteors, and his eyes burned. Upon recalling what had happened the night before, a shy smile formed on his lips, even though it looked like a grimace because of the throbbing pain in his head. Nevertheless, he hoped that it wasn't all a dream, and looked forward to later, when he'd meet Brian again.

He hoped, that Brian was indeed real, and his new potential _friend_.


	3. Eyes of Galaxies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter up! Rog and Bri give each other nicknames and Bri is so beautiful that Rog goes through a gay crisis (as it should be)

Midnight neared the next day, and Roger was becoming more and more nervous with each tick of the clock. He feared not being met with the living bundle of stars once he went outside, and as if that wasn't enough, he was also nervous if the opposite happened. Because, had Brian not been real in the first place, he wouldn't have to face him now and stay calm about it.

Discarding every stupid or negative thought, the Prince took ahold of his golden brush, softly combing his long hair with it, humming in the process. It always made him relax, for some odd reason. He checked himself in the big mirror near his bed, making sure he looked decent, for what reason he wasn't sure, and headed out with a deep breath. His eyes subconsciously shut, anxiety overcoming him once more. He exhaled, and opened his eyes slowly, only to see an empty sky above his head. He looked disappointed, but deep inside, he wasn't surprised.

Unsure of what to do, he just stood in the middle of the huge balcony, frown evident on his pink lips. His mind was filled with memories from the night before, how surreal everything seemed to be in fact, _real_. He was in a bad mood, the only thing he'd look forward to now taken away from him, like everything else he developed an interest in. He stared at the indigo sky colliding with the darkness of the sea ahead of him, small, bright stars illuminating patterns on the wavy water. He was mesmerised, and lost in thought.

“ _Hey_ ”, a deep voice came from behind him, and Roger might have screamed. He tensed, and what little bodyhair he had visibly stood straight as he swiftly turned around, only to see-

“What the-- _You_!”, he accused. He looked terrified, and Brian absolutely loved the sight in front of his eyes.

“You _wanker_! You scared me!”, the Prince spat, startling the other man and drawing long, hearty laughter from him. Roger watched him as he laughed at his reaction, arms crossed, and brows knitted, obviously mad.

“Woah, such foul words coming from a Prince of your caliber!”, he exaggerated, having calmed down from his high. “Who taught you these?”

“I taught myself these. When you've got so much time on your hands, who knows what you get up to”, Roger explained, still very visibly tense. His hands were clenched in fists now, hanging on either side of his waist, still frowning.

Noticing his expression, Brian smiled at the blond. “Oh, come on. It wasn't even a proper scare; I just _greeted_ you! Not my fault you didn't expect it”, he said, acting innocent, even though on the inside he was still giggling at the whole situation.

“Oh _sod off!_ ”, the foul mouthed Prince exclaimed, though his face softened soon after he saw Brian looking absolutely delighted because of him. In a way, it made him feel _weird_. Weird... but _special_ , nonetheless. He took a seat on the edge and turned his face to Brian, who was now flying towards him, when he suddenly rushed forward and passed through him, now appearing right in front of the blond. Roger's eyes widened, his breath caught in his throat.

“ _B-brian_!”, he scolded. “I'm pretty sure you're not allowed to do that!”, but Brian only shrugged.

“Maybe, maybe not. You know, there aren't any particular rules up here”, he simply said. “Well, no rules, not taking into consideration the fact that I can't be present in the daytime and that I'm basically transparent. Even though, I wouldn't really call these rules. Rather, some _slight_ malfunctions. Doesn't really bother me”, he shrugged once more, and Roger looked at him intensely, bottom lip tightly trapped between his teeth.

“No rules, huh?”, he repeated, to which Brian nodded. “Sounds nice. I wish there were no rules for me too”

Brian looked at the boy, skeptical. “Would be nice. But think about this,”, he paused, for extra emphasis. “If there were no rules, I wouldn't be here right now”, he smiled shyly, and Roger did the same.

“Yeah”, he admitted. “I guess you wouldn't.”

This time, when the clock had struck twelve, Roger and Brian were still talking, sharing views about the universe, only that Roger had no idea about facts, and Brian knew the answers to most of the boy's questions, so it was more like Roger asking Brian about the universe rather than them both contributing to giving answers.

The look on Rogers eyes whenever Brian would mention something knew, or get particularly into explaining something, was absolutely _delightful_. His pupils sparkled with bliss and amusement, absorbing all the bits of information given to him, as he observed Brian up close. The man was now sitting next to him on the edge, except he wasn't really sitting there, just floating above the surface of the balcony in a sitting position, hands frantically flying around the air as he tried to explain his points thoroughly, and Roger thought it was the most dedicated a person had ever looked while striking a conversation with him. He noticed how he wasn't surrounded by flesh and bones, but rather some kind of membrane made entirely out of the atmosphera, the wind, the stars. It looked absolutely fascinating, and a little hard to believe, but Roger was deeply amazed.

He sifted closer, Brian's voice almost inaudible over his loud heartbeat, drumming against his insides. He was now observing his eyes; the two pupils that seemed to be so much more than they looked like. He noticed how inside them, there weren't stars, but _galaxies_. Beautiful, colorful spirals dancing around, hidden from the world every time he blinked. They were like tiny, unexplored universes, inside their own, enormous universe.

“... so, that's why meteors crash with the earth sometimes, I mean it's only natural, when- _Roger_... ?”, Brian paused, noticing how the other seemed spaced out, lost somewhere.  
“Roger?”, he repeated, and the Prince seemed to wake up from his trace then. He shook his head and blinked up at him, eyes wide, observing.

“I'm sorry, I must have talked too much-”, started Brian, but Roger cut him off when he raised a finger to his own lips.

“It's not that, Bri”, he said. “It's just that you're so... _beautiful_ ”, he continued, mouth so full with words, expression soft, careful. He didn't know where all of this was coming from, but he had no intention of stopping it. For the first time in his life, Roger felt alive. For the first time in his life, he wasn't alone.

“ _Bri_ ”, Brian repeated. “You called me Bri”

Roger raised his hand to the man's cheek, smiling sadly when he saw his hand pass right through his transparent aura. It felt oddly frustrating not being able to touch him; feel his breath on his cheek and the warmth of his body, smell his shampoo, run his fingers across his skin. He placed his hand on his own lap.

“I did”, he said. “It's a nickname I kind of just came up with”, he confessed, and the pair chuckled.

“Then I shall call you...”, Brian trailed off. He looked around, as if a godsent hint would appear, and then smiled, fixing his gaze on the Prince once again. “ _Rog_ ”, he finally announced, and Roger's smile turned into a fully wide grin.  
“Beautiful beautiful Prince Rog”, and at that, he felt his cheeks grow red with warmth.

Soon after, a yawn was heard, and they chuckled when Roger apologised. “I should probably head to bed”, he truthfully said, feeling another yawn emerge. “It's quite late”

“It _is_ quite late”, Brian confirmed. A small smile on his lips. “Good night, Rog”

“Night, Bri”

And with one last glance, Brian vanished into thin air while Roger plopped himself down onto his bed. He closed his eyes, but was met with no sleep. The drowsiness was there, but the unsteady rhythm of his heartbeat caused by a certain someone wouldn't let his body rest. He smiled at his ceiling, turning his head to look out his window one last time.

Sure enough, five flashes of light decorated in a simple pattern shone down on him from above.


	4. There for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beautiful Prince resents to his Star for comfort after a moment of weakness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think im losing motivation to continue this already jsjdkajdjs sod me

"-so I told him to lock me up all he wants but I'll still bother him!", hearty laughter was heard, "Serves him right, that tyrant!"

"You did well, Rog"

"Bloody right I did!", he exclaimed, but his voice was not angry or upset; in fact, he was smiling so widely that the muscles around his mouth started to hurt. Brian was also smiling, not in the way that he did; his smile was ... _different_. Special, in a way. It started out small, shy, even, and it only grew from then, from tight-lipped smiles to slightly open-mouthed toothy grins that always came with a sparkle of his captivating galaxy eyes and wrinkles just above the cheeks. Roger did not know how or why he knew all of this.

"Hey, Bri?", he called out, fearing the silence that had covered the air. "Can you tell me more about yourself?", and the question was so genuine, so pure, that had Brian been human he was sure he would have jumped on the blond and probably teared up.

"What do you want to know?", he went for, instead.

"Anything and everything", he smiled, toothy, but small. "How is it up there?"

"Oh, well, it's pretty... lonely, I'd say", he chuckled, but Roger could see him darting his gaze downwards and he very much understood why.

Ah.

 _Lonely_. What a word.

Loneliness was something truly familiar to him, for he was met with it since he was a little kid. He couldn't comprehend how a star, or a constellation at that, would be lonely in a sky with billions and trillions of stars and more, but in a way, he did. He too, was lonely, living on an Earth with a population of billions of different people, but had been caged away from them most of his life. Maybe Brian's cage was not a castle like his, but something else.

"I understand", the Prince finally replied, because he did. "Can I ask you another question?"

"Of course"

"Do you-", he paused, his voice suddenly giving up on him, palms sweaty, brows furrowed, and frowning. Brian did not fail to notice the swift change. "Do you maybe feel... _caged_? When you're up there?", and when he finally got it out, he could breathe again and his lungs felt so much better filled with air rather than stress.

"In a way, I do, actually", Brian replied truthfully. He did feel like that sometimes, not in the way that Roger did, but caged anyway. "Because I used to have so much and now I'm left with nothing", and Roger swore he saw a tear roll down Brian's cheek, but thinking back to it, that could have also been his own. Nevertheless, he nodded, because he understood Brian, in many more ways than one and if felt terrifying as much as it felt absolutely satisfying to see. He understood Brian, and Brian understood him too. It was company, friendship, _connection_. And Roger was thrilled.

"Before you became a star,", Roger started, but considered his question. Was he being too forward? Was he being impolite? Would Brian leave him and never come back? No, he thought. Brian would never do that. Or at least he hoped so. "d-did you... were you- what _were_ you?", and God knows how weird his question came out but Brian nodded nonetheless, understanding.

"I was like you", he relied simply.

"You were a Prince?!"

" _No_ \- not entirely at least, but _yes_ -", he stopped himself, regaining his cool. "I was, indeed, the son of a Kingdom's ruler. But I never claimed my rightful throne, for I didn't want to be someone as small as some Prince, or potential King. I wanted to be _someone_ , make a name for myself. I've always loved astrophysics, and I used to study most of the time back then, not because I was trying to prove something, but..." he trailed off, as he noticed Roger's shocked expression. Noticed how eagerly he was listening to him, how he was hanging from his words like a loose thread. It was genuine, and _beautiful_ , just like him. "... but because I really, really loved what I did.", he continued, and Roger wondered what it was like to feel love. "And instead of being some Prince who would rule the people for as long as his feet felt the ground and died that, I wanted to be something more. I wanted to keep doing what I loved most, and then, explore space for myself. And, I guess, I did manage that part", he smiled sadly, but it was still genuine. It was clear how passionate he was about this.

"I still don't understand how you came to be what you are now", replied Roger, but it was evident how sympathetic he felt of the other. They were both situated atop of the balcony like usual, but both facing towards each other to the side. Roger considered Brian's condition, how he could not touch or be touched, but the urge to shyly shift his left hand towards Brian's own one resting slightly above the edge was too tempting. He went ahead, feeling his fingertips brush against the harsh surface of the cobblestone wall holding them both ( _or rather just him_ ). Brian did not fail to notice that.

"I know it's weird", the star confessed. Now, whether he talked about his story, or the saddening fact that he was unable to physically feel Roger against him, the Prince wasn't sure. He seemed to go with the former.

"But it just kind of happened. I don't remember how, or when, or _why_ , really. Suddenly, I was being lifted into the sky, turning into mere atmosphera. I had no story, no character. Some of it was still there, but it was evident I had lost most of myself in order to be what I am now"

Brian was being fully open and honest, and as much as Roger appreciated it, he still had a funny feeling in his belly, and a wicked thought in his mind that Brian wished he wasn't there at that time, and potentially, wished for his life back; a life without Roger. Suddenly, he felt like he was going to be sick. He gathered the ( _not needed anymore_ ) books laying beside him, and stood straight. Brian looked fairly startled.

"I'm sorry", Roger said, and his expression seemed... different. Brian was sure he'd never seen him like this, like he was in actual pain. He looked deeply troubled, and he feared having done something wrong. "I just... I have to go", and he abruptly spined on his heels and went back inside. Brian sighed and reluctantly turned into his lifeless form once more.

Once inside, Roger sat on the bed and glanced out the window. He knew Brian was out there, but he couldn't bring himself to face the other man. He assumed, deep inside, that he probably did not want to face him either.

He noticed how he was still resting his Father's books on his lap. He opened one and flipped through a couple of pages, absent-mindedly more than anything, before closing it with a sigh. He didn't really need them anymore, he figured, so he got up and walked to his door with heavy steps. He took one last look at the clock before heading out, noticing how it was a few good hours after midnight. His father couldn't possibly be awake at this hour; as far as he was concerned, he was a heavy sleeper who had no difficulty in falling into deep slumber, especially at night. He opened the door soundlessly, and stepped outside into the corridor. Seemingly, the area was safe.

He walked down the stairs and into the library, following the light in front of him to guide him through- but, wait. He hadn't brought a light with him...?

"Took you long enough", a husky voice said. Roger jumped noticeably.

"F-father?", how could he be down here? How did he know he was coming?

"You seriously thought I would not notice you sneaking in here and stealing my books?", he asked with a sigh, though there was an evident tint of anger in his voice. Roger felt shivers running down his back.

This was _bad_.

"And you didn't even have the decency to ask in the first place?"

"Had I asked, you wouldn't have agreed"

" _Silence_!", he angrily shouted. "But yes, that is true. I would have never agreed. Now, you come here, you disgrace of a son", and if Roger was afraid of him before, now he'd have to be more than terrified. With small, reluctant steps taken one at a time, he found himself in front of his father's big wooden desk in the middle of the room. He looked angry and disappointed. 

" _This_ ,", he said, raising a hand to painfully grip at his son's jaw, "is what kids like you get", and he slapped him hard across the face. It was humiliating, and undoubtedly painful, the sound of skin slapping skin, or rather, the skin of his father's hand slapping his. 

_For what?_ , he thought. For what reason was he forced to withstand this? What had he done that left him so inferior against him? Why did he deserve this? 

But despite all of this, he kept his mouth shut as a single tear rolled down his cheek. From the shadows, he could hear his mother shuffle as well. She had been watching the entire time, and did absolutely _nothing_. 

"To your room now", he demanded, fists clenched. "And make sure I don't see you tomorrow", and Roger wouldn't have it any other way. He turned around and ran out of the library, legs shaky and unsteady, doing their best to bolt up the stairs and back to his room. Back to Brian. 

By the time the door behind him closed, he was already sobbing, feet almost completely giving out, as he reached for the balcony. Where his father hit him, right onto his left cheek, had now formed an ugly red mark, so distinctively noticeable in comparison to his smooth features and his royal apparel. He put a cool hand over it, wincing at the pain as he still sobbed loudly. 

"Brian! B-Bri, w-where, w-where ar-e you?!", he shouted in between sobs and hiccups. The aforementioned man appeared in front of him in an instant, eyes and mouth wide open in surprise and fear. The usually cheerful and sweet Prince had turned into a sobbing mess, a weak, almost lifeless body crawling on the ground. He looked absolutely _wrecked_. 

"Oh my- Rog, what the _hell_ happened?!", he exclaimed, rushing in front of the blond, growing more and more concerned as the boy continued sobbing. It broke his heart - or whatever of a heart he had - to see him like this. "Rog, love, please calm down. Breathe for me, okay?", he sweetly asked, though his panic really couldn't be hidden. 

"I-I'm so-- Bri", he cried out, and if there was anything more heartbreaking than seeing Roger on the floor, bawling his eyes out, then it had to be the fact that he was unable to offer a shoulder for him to cry on, or a comforting embrace to calm him down. 

"Shh, it's okay, Rog. It's okay", he whispered, but over his loud heartbeat and the buzzing of his ears, Roger could only make out half of it or less. He was pretty sure he caught some sweet words despite his state, like small ' _It's_ _okay_ 's and ' _Take your time_ 's, and he felt himself get quieter, eyes burning up from all the sobbing. He started mumbling semi-coherent words, trying to explain what had happened, occasionally shouting things like ' _He hit me!_ ', and ' _H-he hi-t me, Bri!_ ', which not only angered, but also deeply saddened the other man. Roger did not deserve this. 

"Rog, love, look at me", Brian's sweet calming voice echoed. "It's okay. I'm here for you. Through thick and thin, I'll _always_ be there for you" 

And at that moment, Roger thought that nothing could bring him down. Not his father's cruelty, and not his mother's negligence. Not even the biggest wall could stop him from finding his freedom and happiness. 

Because, at that moment, Brian was with him. And it didn't matter that he was locked up, or hated by his own family, or brutally slapped across the face. It didn't matter that he couldn't touch the dark haired male, or be physically comforted by him.

Nothing really mattered, as long as he had Brian by his side. 

"B-bri?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Please", a pause. A long breath, a shuffle of his legs.

"Please never leave me", and he said it, finally said it, though he wasn't sure if it was too soon to unravel to the man just yet, he had never felt so safe before, and he was afraid of losing this feeling so much that he'd rather say it now than ever. 

And if his feelings about Brian were what we're talking about, Roger wouldn't have it any other way.

" _Never_ , Rog”, he promised. “Never in a million years”. 

Suffice to say, Roger did not get any sleep that night, and Brian never left his side. 


End file.
